Monday, 7 February 2011

The day I learned the difference between a nurse and a phlebotomist.

5 days ago I met a phlebotomist. It was not the best circumstances to meet under. But I sucked it up. I Smiled sweetly. And I gave her my arm.

5 days later I still feel the wrath of her phlebotomist skills with a yellowy purple bruise wrapped round my arm. Yesterdays bruise was the highlight of it's lifespan. It was quite incredible. And I should have perhaps taken a photo then for prosperity. Hindsight eh.

So it was evie's 30th birthday. And as she, dinealle, kaddy and Kate m are all in the nursing profession I wanted to discuss with them the mess that their colleague had left all over my arm. And that is when I found out it was a phlebotomist not a nurse. She looked like a nurse. Sounded like a nurse. No, not a nurse. Luckily no offense was taken at my confusing them with a mere, and also evidently crap phlebotomist. But I was assured in future just to go to Evie for future blood tests as she says I would leave (and stay) bruise and mark free.

But as you all know. If blood removal became a regular part of my life then I would probably run away to the circus. I hear the trapeze is good for bingo wings...

Ooh and 8 hours later in the pub for evie's 30th. Evie - 5 months pregnant and going strong. Kane (hubby) - 5 sheets to the wind and had to be taken home. Men.

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